


The Planet Trap

by praesaepe



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/praesaepe/pseuds/praesaepe
Summary: “Something about this storm is creating gaseous particles that I’m not going to be able to filter,” Scourge explained. Another gust of wind whipped around them, and Scourge coughed into his fist. When he spoke again, more static than usual was interlaced with his vocalizations. “If you aren’t opposed, I believe there’s a cave just a couple of hics north that we could take shelter in for the duration.”





	The Planet Trap

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my good friend [Jazz](https://ferrum-negative.tumblr.com/)!!! They've absolutely dragged me into this rarepair hell because I dragged them into Thunderrodica and that's ok because Scourge deserves a monsterbot boyfriend and I'm more than happy to provide.

“This place is kinda beautiful, don’t you think?” Grotusque yelled down to Scourge from where he was flying. “In a weird, alien way. Not that every planet in this universe isn’t weird and alien, but at least this one’s weird, alien, and pretty.” Scourge, who was too lost in his sensors to hear, let alone reply, continued skimming over the surface of the planet in his alt mode. Grotusque rolled his optics with a huff and tucked his wings in to dive towards his companion. He intended to scrape his claws across the top of Scourge’s alt mode, but Scourge noticed him just in time to roll to the side, transforming back to root mode and skidding to a halt. Grotusque careened out of control, slamming face-first into the ground and getting a mouthful of dirt.

“You should be more careful,” Scourge said with smirk as Grotusque spat it out before transforming back into root mode and grimacing. “Flying too low is dangerous for someone as clumsy as you.”

“Clumsy?” Grotusque said, puffing up with faux rage even as a grin stole over his face, showing off his sharp dentae. “I’ll show you clumsy, you good-for-nothing-” He leapt at Scourge, who barked out a laugh and swept him to the side with a quick wing movement. Grotusque gripped the edge of Scourge’s wing as he was thrown past and used the momentum to wrench it back, exposing Scourge’s side. A flash of pink was all that signified the servo that reached through the opening and tried to wrap around Scourge’s hip and flip him onto the ground. Scourge managed to pull away before that could happen, folding his wing back in enough to smack Grotusque on the helm and throw him off balance. He took a few steps back while Grotusque blinked and rubbed his helm.

“As much as I enjoy our sparring matches, Grotusque, we  _ are _ here on a mission,” Scourge said, even as he reigned in his sensor net in order to just  _ look _ at his surroundings. The planet wasn’t cyberformed, not like Cybertron, but largely organic as Earth had been. While he and Grotusque were still a bit larger in scale than the foliage, it was less of a disparity as it had been with the humans. Scourge wasn’t a scientist, but he suspected the higher oxygen concentration in the atmosphere likely had something to do with it.

“Sorry about that, you just weren’t paying attention and I thought it’d be fun to mess with you a little. I’m right though, aren’t I? About this planet?” Grotusque replied, folding his wings and looking at Scourge expectantly. Scourge replayed the audio from a few moments before - it had been received, but not actually heard.

“You are. I find myself fond of the red hue the foliage tends toward,” he said, reaching out to run a servo over a nearby branch and gently plucking a single leaf. He turned it around in his servo, running a discerning optic over the irregular veins and edges.

“... the view, right?” Scourge blinked as Grotusque’s words finally filtered back into his audials. He looked up and saw his companion grinning at him. He suppressed the embarrassment that attempted to thread its way into his field.

“Ah, apologies. I missed what you said,” he said, letting the leaf fall. Grotusque’s optics tracked it for a second before flickering back up to Scourge’s face.

“‘S all good. I said I was thinking it’d be really fun to paint the view, right? Next art class, maybe? Of course, you might want to get a better look up high if the idea of a landscape appeals to you. It’s even better up there,” he said. He was almost sheepish as he spoke, a softer line underneath his usual jovial attitude. Scourge smiled.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t be opposed to that at all. I might do that now before we get back to scanning,” he said. He looked up, about to shift into his alt mode, when he noticed clouds gathering. “Did Megatron or Minimus mention any inclement weather in this sector before we came down?” Grotusque’s face twisted in consideration as he stared up at the sky.

“Not to my knowledge, no. If it’s just a little rain, shouldn’t be a problem, right? As long as it’s not acidic, of course,” he said.

“Probably not. I suppose I’ll have to wait until after to get a good view, though. Let’s just continue our mission,” Scourge replied. Just as he finished speaking, a gust of wind blew the ever-thickening ozone of the storm at him and down his intake. His vocalizer froze up before sputtering out a static-y cough to clear it. He frowned and let his sensor net expand before swearing.

“What?” Grotusque asked, worry clear on his face. He stepped towards Scourge, a servo raised. 

“Something about this storm is creating gaseous particles that I’m not going to be able to filter,” Scourge explained. Another gust of wind whipped around them, and Scourge coughed into his fist. When he spoke again, more static than usual was interlaced with his vocalizations. “If you aren’t opposed, I believe there’s a cave just a couple of hics north that we could take shelter in for the duration.”

“‘Course! Let’s go! What are we waiting for?” Grotusque shifted to his alt and kicked off from the ground, pausing mid-air to stare down at Scourge, who also transformed and rose above the treetops. Scourge took point, as he knew where they were going, and fought back the sputtering of his intake as they cut through the gas. A few drops of water spattered across his frame as they flew, but it only started pouring in earnest as he slid to a halt next to an opening in a craggy rock face that rose above them, Grotusque landing next to him. They both transformed and ducked into it, Scourge unable to stop the stream of static from his vocalizer as it struggled to filter out the gas. He felt a hand between his wings that guided him further in, and the gas in the air began to clear as they drew away from the entrance. 

“C’mon, you should be fine just a little further in,” Grotusque muttered. Scourge coughed again, a horrible, scratchy noise, but after about half a klik of walking, he could feel his vocalizer clearing up about as well as it could nowadays.

“I apologize,” he said, as soon as he was able to speak. It was laced with static, and he grimaced, but Grotusque didn’t comment.

“Aw, it’s no big deal, Mustache. I was getting bored, and who wants to fly in the rain anyhow? It’s not like solvent; if you let it get in your cracks and don’t take care of it you might get rusty,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Not worth the risk, if you ask me. Nah, I’m perfectly fine here. Let’s just sit down and wait it out.” Scourge nodded his assent and they both sat against the wall, careful to give each other plenty of room for their wings. Scourge coughed into his servo a few more times, grimacing, before looking at Grotusque, who smiled and gave Scourge a nudge with his wings. Scourge covered his mouth with a servo and let out a small cough to hide his responding smile. Grotusque reclined further, lacing his fingers behind his head and crossing one leg over the other. Scourge folded his own legs together and let his servos rest on his lap, casting a thoughtful glance over at Grotusque.

He wasn’t entirely sure as to why the monsterbot had signed up for the mission, especially given his comment about getting bored. Scourge could have easily handled it on his own, but Minimus insisted that forays on unknown planets required two mechs at least. Usually, one of his trine or Tailgate offered themselves up, but they had been conspicuously absent when Minimus was looking for volunteers. Grotusque hadn’t even hesitated to offer himself up. Scourge didn’t mind - far from it, in fact. He had grown fond of the mech in the time they had spent together, so much so that he considered Grotusque his closest friend outside of his trine and Tailgate.

“So, what do you wanna do, then?” Grotusque’s voice cut through his train of thought. His arms were still behind his head, but his optics were trained on Scourge. “We gotta pass the time somehow, and while I don’t mind a little bit of recharge, I’d much rather make conversation with you, Mustache. Maybe we could play a little I spy? I’ll start - I spy with my little optic, something, uh…” He looked around, quickly finding there wasn’t really anything in the cave besides rocks. “Something gray?”

“I’m going to hazard a guess and say it’s a rock?” Scourge said without looking away from Grotusque, not bothering to hide the smirk that curled the edges of his lips.

“Aww, you’re not even gonna try to look around? What if it isn’t a rock?” Grotusque whined. Scourge lifted an optic ridge.

“Is it not a rock?” he asked. Grotusque frowned, his shoulders drooping.

“Nah, it’s a rock.” There was a beat of silence.

“Again, I must apologize,” Scourge said. “You could be back on the ship, instead of trapped in here with me.” There was an edge of frustration as he spoke, an unsaid annoyance with the problems that had plagued his frame since he had been cured. He could feel himself retreating, wings curling closer to his frame, but a pink servo settled itself on his knee, stopping him. He looked up and saw Grotusque looking at him, not with pity, but honest compassion.

“Listen, all I’d be doing if I were up on the Lost Light would be getting overcharged on high grade with Repugnus and Doublecross at Swerve’s or sitting in my habsuite, bored as Pit, watching Rewind and Chromedome's weekly news report,” he said. “Being down here means I get to spend time with you, even if the scenery doesn’t work well for I spy.” Grotusque grinned at his own joke, but Scourge was stunned into silence. Yes, he considered Grotusque a good friend, but he hadn’t realized how vigorously that affection was returned. Well, maybe he had, but he didn’t actively  _ think _ on it. 

_ Pit, at this rate, I’ll be as bad as Cyclonus, _ he thought. He suppressed a shiver at the idea, but evidently not well enough, because Grotusque’s expression immediately became one of concern.

“Are you cold?” Grotusque edged a little closer, not enough to violate Scourge’s personal space, but enough to seem as though he were seeking permission to be closer. Belatedly, Scourge realized that Grotusque’s servo was still resting on his knee. He was going to deny being cold, but he opened his mouth, and -

“A little,” he heard himself say. He blinked. Grotusque frowned and scooted closer, folding his wings in to allow himself to press his frame gently against Scourge’s. At first contact, Scourge stiffened, but before Grotusque could start to pull away he allowed himself to relax, even with a slight sense of confusion clouding his processor. There was a rumble as Grotusque’s engines started to rev, warming them both up.

“Here, this should help,” he said. It did, which surprised Scourge, because he hadn't realized he was feeling the effects of the cold until he was faced with the warmth of Grotusque's frame.

"Thank you," he said. There was another stretch of silence, interrupted only by the faint sounds of rain from the direction of the cave entrance and the soft  _ plink _ of water dripping from the tips of stalactites onto the ground below, as well as the soft rumble of Grotusque's engines.

“You know, when Rodimus asked us if we wanted to escape to another universe, I expected it would be a little more action-packed. I guess I forgot there’s always the slow bits in between,” Grotusque commented. “Not that I mind, really. The slow bits are good too. They’re probably better than what I would have done back in the old universe. Plus, I got to meet you,” he said, bumping his shoulder against Scourge’s, “which I consider a good thing, because I don’t know too many other mechs with fraggin’ awesome wings in their root mood, which is a shame.” Scourge chuckled.

“You should tell that to Cyclonus. He pokes fun at my wings. Some amica he is,” he said, though it was obviously meant without any sort of heat.

“I’ll do it when we get back to the ship.  _ Enthusiastically, _ ” Grotusque said, grinning. “He’s probably just jealous. He thinks he looks scary in his root mode now, but he’d be terrifying with wings, and he knows it.” Scourge snorted at the suggestion that Cyclonus was envious of  _ anything _ appearance-related.

“Not everyone can pull off wings. It takes handsome mechs like  _ us _ to actually do it justice,” he said, raising a servo to his chest haughtily. Grotusque barked out a laugh, then bit his lip, looking almost considerate for a moment.

“Of course, the  _ most _ handsome mechs have those fancy little facial insignias too,” he finally said, almost a little too fast. It hung in the air for a moment while Scourge blinked, startled, but he quickly recovered.

“Do you have some unspoken feelings about Minimus you’d like to discuss, Grotusque?” he quipped. Grotusque sputtered out a line of static, which Scourge used as time to sort through his own garbled processor. He was almost certain that that had been an attempt at flirting on Grotusque’s part, and he was surprised to find that he wasn’t just receptive to the idea, but he  _ craved _ it. When had that happened?

“No, I - Minimus? Him? Mustache, c’mon -” Scourge almost felt sorry for how flustered Grotusque had become, so he took pity on him and reached up to stroke his facial insignia.

“I suppose I  _ am _ rather irresistible, aren’t I? Not that you’re hard on the optics either,” he added, throwing a sly wink in the monsterbot’s direction. That seemed to halt his sputtering as he looked at Scourge with wide optics.

Scourge knew he was desperately out of practice with actual flirting of any kind. It had probably been just shy of six millenia that he’d had mechs to flirt with and the motivation to do so, but judging by Grotusque’s reaction, he still had it in him. Either that, or he liked Scourge enough that he’d be receptive to even the worst flirting, but Scourge preferred to think it was the former. In any case, he was extremely pleased with the tiny hitch in the rumble of Grotusque’s engines and decided to push a little further.

“I have to admit that I’m finding this mission somewhat tiring. You wouldn’t happen to want to grab a drink together at Swerve’s when we get back aboard the Lost Light, would you?” 

For a spark-racing moment, Grotusque was silent, before he finally managed to say, “Yeah, of course. I’d love to.” He paused. “As, like, a date, right? ‘Cause we go get drinks other times, and I just want to make sure that-”

“Yes, as a date,” Scourge said, laughing. He tilted his head for a moment, listening. “Though I don’t think the rain has let up, so we’re still stuck here for the time being.” Grotusque, confidence restored, pressed himself even closer to Scourge, who responded by extending his wing to wrap around the monsterbot as best he could.

“I could think of worse company,” he said. Scourge didn’t bother hiding his content smile.


End file.
